Collision Insurance
by Halfrobotchicken
Summary: Sugar just knows that Santana and Brittany would fall in love...if only she could get them to meet each other.
1. Prologue

Let me start by saying I'm not proud of some of the shit I have to do, okay. Sometimes it just can't be helped.

Manipulation might as well be my middle name. Sugar Manipulation Motta. That actually has a nice ring to it. Anyway, I manipulate people...and situations...and well anything else that I need to. Don't worry or anything. It's for their own good. I promise!

Eventually.

Alright, some people tend to get hurt in the process. There have been plenty of emotional scars, even a few physical. But everything I've done had to be done. I swear.

That being said, some of it isn't so bad. I make dreams come true.

Seriously. It's like my job. It's the best! I've been at it for like a hundred years or something.

I bit the big one while I was writing a poorly constructed note to my boyfriend while also operating my father's horse and buggy without permission. It was the first documented case of texting and driving or whatever. But, it's cool because I got this kick ass gig.

When I got here, Sue (Formally, God, but I just call her Sue cause we're HolyBros) told me I could play Cupid. Well, actually, that I could sit in front of the device that they call CUPID. It's really the Compatibility Unifying and Partiality Identification Database. CUPID generates all the potential love matches in the universe and I make them happen. Everyone thinks this stuff is random. HA! Not a chance. It's me. And Joe Hart, but let's face it, Joe's success rate is in the mid-60s. He's an amateur.

My success rate is 99.99%. Every great power couple in the last 100 years has been my doing. Burns and Allen. Barack and Michelle. Ellen and Portia. Peanut butter and jelly. Me. Me. Me. And also me! (Don't believe everything you read. I was the original PB&J girl. And a baseball bat.)

What's the .01% you ask?

I'll tell you.

Santana Freakin' Lopez.

She's always matching up with the same person on my Soulmate Generator. Always. I just haven't been able to make it happen.

For years, I've tried. I've done everything I can think of to get those two together.

They are absolutely killing my perfect record. Never have I had two people score so incredibly high on the compatibility meter. Their partiality projections are crazy good, the likes of which I've never seen. The problem is, though, I just cannot get those girls to meet.

I arranged for both of them to attend college at Purdue. I plotted concurrent trips to New York City. I moved both sets of their parents to adjoining retirement condos in Fort Lauderdale. I inconspicuously inverted the phone number of a handsy cage dancer. I even gave them a couple of mutual friends, for Sue's sake. Nothing. They still haven't crossed paths.

So desperate times call for desperate measures.

I'm taking matters into my own hands.

Like I said, I'm not proud of some of the shit I have to do, okay.


	2. Boarding

Santana Lopez cringed at the balance line of the account. "Not good," she muttered as she pushed her glasses further up her nose. She clicked back to the another open tab on her computer. The one that kept track of her book store's inventory records. Although, why, she didn't know. It wasn't like she was selling anything recently.

In the digital age, there wasn't exactly a line of people waiting to get into a book shop. There were even less people who wanted to buy lesbian-themed books. Even her newest novelty items weren't doing the trick anymore.

She clicked over to the next tab. There was a list of books and quantities that she wanted to order for the shop, but she just didn't have the money.

"Fuck it," she said, clicking the Order button anyway. She then went back to the first tab and transferred funds from her personal account to the store's account, "It's not like it's the first time I've been broke."

Santana noticed the time in the corner of her screen. Closing time already and not a single, solitary customer. She punched open her cash drawer. It was exactly the same as she started with this morning. She knew that without a doubt, didn't even need to count it. She took the cash out and placed it in the tiny safe hidden under the counter.

She was just about to close her laptop when she noticed the green Honda pull up in her three space parking lot.

"Damn," she said to herself, already having a pretty good idea how this was going to end.

"You have to help me," Finn Hudson announced as he burst through the glass door causing the bell to ring. "I'm out of options. You're the only one left."

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Santana said from behind her computer. "That whole pact about repopulating the world was a joke, Hudson. Gotta let it go."

"It's not that...this time."

Santana groaned. She looked at her best friend of twenty years and sighed, "Then what?"

Finn, who was accustomed to making himself right at home, came around the counter, "I need another chaperone."

"Nope," Santana answered quickly. She busied herself with the task of shutting down her laptop.

"Lopez, c'mon."

"Not a chance," she said again. "I told you never again and I meant it."

"It won't be like last time," Finn promised.

"No," she said resolutely. She put her computer in her bag and lifted it over her head to hang around her shoulders.

"This is a different group of kids, Santana," he said. "I swear. This is not the same glee club that escaped the hotel in New York."

"Not even if it was the last glee club on earth," she strolled by him, flipping off the store lights and continued to the door he had just come in.

"Please, Santana," he begged as he turned the OPEN sign to CLOSED. "This is the last favor I'll ever ask of you."

"You're such a fucking liar, Hudson," Santana rolled her eyes. "You've been saying that since kindergarten when you asked for a black crayon because you ate yours."

"It's an all expenses paid vacation," Finn said, quite satisfied with his argument. "You need to get away."

Santana walked out, holding the door open as he passed through as well. She put her key in the lock and twisted it. "It's not like I can just take off. I can't just shut the store down for three days."

Finn gave the handle of the door a tug to make sure it was locked, "Santana," he said with a disbelieving smirk. The calling of her bullshit was totally implied.

He was right to do so. Closing down the book shop for three days probably wouldn't make a bit of difference and the promise of getting away was awfully tempting. She adjusted the bag around her shoulders, "All expenses?"

"School-sponsored trip," Finn stated. "Budgeting for two school-sanctioned chaperones."

Santana served in a very limited capacity with the WMHS Cheerios as an assistant coach to Roz Washington. That actually meant she only had to show up at home football games and make sure the tiny cheerleader shot out of the cannon actually made it into the stunt airbag. Unfortunately, this also made her eligible for chaperoning.

She crossed her arms on the roof of her car, resting her chin there. "It's possible I could make it work."

Finn mirrored her stance on the other side, "Just for three days."

"Maybe I could actually enjoy the city this time."

"Uh," Finn cleared his throat. "_A_ city, yes."

Santana narrowed her eyes. "It's not in New York?"

"Nationals is in a different city every year, you know that."

"So where are we going?"

"Boise."

"You're offering me an all expenses paid three day vacation to _Boise_?"

"What's wrong with Boise?"

Santana shook her head, "With twelve singing teenagers."

"And an alternate."

"No," she said and got into her car.

He bent down to see her in through the window, "Then I won't take the alternate."

"No," she said again and put her car in reverse. "Watch your clown feet."

She left a pouting Finn standing there as she drove away. Her phone chimed almost immediately, but she ignored it. After tossing her phone into the passenger seat, she turned up the radio. She listened to it at a moderately loud level for the whole five minutes it took to get to the outskirts of town. Her car took a right just passed the sign that advertised Lima Links.

She parked in her designated spot, waved to a familiar couple coming out of The Club House and climbed the steps that led to her apartment.

Her apartment that was built on top of the Lima Links club house on her family's golf course. Her father, the Slice Doctor, had remodeled a former storage space into an apartment for the two years that her parents were legally separated. That was when she was in high school. It had sat empty until just recently. She had little choice but to move into the tiny place when her parents suddenly sold their house, moved to Florida, and left her in charge of the business.

The turn of events hadn't been completely unwelcome as she was months away from going under from her original lesbian themed book shop venture in Indianapolis, where she had been living with her cheating whore of a girlfriend. She was able to escape with a good deal of her inventory and occupy a nice little rent free space in Lima where her father had invested in some real estate some time ago. Not a terrible trade-off for overseeing the operations of a very successful golf course. Though, she suspected her father wasn't entirely out of the loop.

She had barely slipped off her sensible shoes when she noticed Finn's green Honda through her golf ball cracked window.

He didn't bother knocking. He also didn't bother asking when he opened up her fridge and helped himself to a bottle of water. It was almost as if he lived there himself when he plopped down in her recliner and rocked back.

"Lopez, I know that you're going to it. You know that you're going to do it." He took a long drink and swallowed. "So just say that you'll come spend three fun-filled days in Boise with your best pal, Finneus."

Santana dropped into her bean bag chair, the only other furniture to sit on in this particular room, "I could, but i just don't want to."

"But you do."

"No," she protested. "I don't."

"I'll do something for you."

"What could you possibly do for me?"

"Starting with dinner," he said.

"You can't cook."

"No, but my mom can. Kurt is home for the weekend and has got some special announcement for the family."

"That he's gayer than a wind chime in a tornado? I think that announcement is way overdue."

"Probably not," Finn said. "Although, you're right. He knows. They know. He's know that they know. They know that he knows. I don't know why they won't just say it already."

"Well, as much as I'd love to," Santana chuckled, "I can't."

"Can't?"

"Can't."

"You can't?"

"I have plans."

"Plans," Finn repeated. He tapped his chin with his forefinger. "Plans, you say."

"I can have plans."

"Oh, yeah," he said. "You can have plans, but rarely do...unless...oh, c'mon...not her."

"Who?"

"Holly?" Finn sat his water bottle on the table. "Lopez, don't do this to yourself."

"What?"

"You know what."

"We're just hanging out," Santana said much too defensively.

"Hanging out with no pants."

"So what?"

"She's your golf pro!"

"There's no rule that says I can't bang my golf pro."

"There should be."

"But there's not."

"Okay, lemme tell you what's going to happen."

"Please don't," she tried to stop him.

"You two will hook up...again. And she won't call you back for three months...again," Finn said bluntly. "Even though you'll run into her like ten times and she'll act all weird...again. It's a booty call, Lopez. You're a booty call. And frankly, you're much too good for that."

"Shut up."

"And she works for you."

"I barely have anything to do with this place," Santana argued fruitlessly.

"You sign her checks, Slice Doctor, Jr."

"Whatever, Finn," Santana rolled out of the bean bag. "Don't you have a home to go to?"

"Yeah, fine," he stood up. "I'll go..." Before he took a step, he extended his long arms and placed his hands on Santana's shoulders. "Please think about it, though."

"Why are you being such a lady about this?"

"I don't like for you to get hurt."

"You once threw me off a roof," she said referencing an event from elementary school.

"Not before I made sure you were wearing a helmet and three pairs of knee pads."

"I'm a grown up," she said. "I don't need your knee pads."

"I could make a joke there."

"Don't."

"Okay," he gave her a light smack to her head. "Might need the helmet, though."

"Go," she punched him. "Leave, get out, forget you know me."

With Finn gone, she went about getting ready for her plans. Which, yes, the plans were with Holly and no, pants would be not be required.

First, a shower. She lathered twice, skipping the the first rinse but trying to adhere to repeat. Shave the legs, check the wax. All good. She grabbed the good smelling soap, giving it a few squirts. All the important parts were first. Clean and fresh was her motto. After that, the mundane parts. She washed her feet, behind her ears, got her back the best she could and then shut off the lukewarm water.

Santana exited the shower and wiped away the fog on the mirror. There was a stray hair near her eyebrow that she definitely needed to pluck. There was also the beginning of what looked to be a pimple on her chin. Nothing tweezers and cover-up can't fix, though. She dried off and threw her towel over the rack.

She put on her lucky pair of thongs and a fairly new bra, then ventured to the closet to put together an ensemble. Something casual probably. Something that said, "I almost forgot that we were going to get together tonight." Definitely jeans, but definitely the pair that said, "Dat Ass!"

When she pulled that particular pair of jeans on, she inspected her assage. On a scale of zero to booty, she was pulling down an 8.5 easy. "Nice," she told herself.

Midway through rooting around for the tightest shirt that showed just the right amount of cleavage, she heard her phone. Thinking that it was probably Finn, she dismissed it. Even the second time, she decided to let it go. It wasn't until the notification of her voicemail that she suspended her search and picked up the device.

It was Holly.

"Santana, hey," came through the speaker. "It's me. Holly. Holly Holiday. Anyway, I know we were hooki-...uh, meeting up tonight and stuff, but I just got rear-ended on the freeway."

"Asperger's!" could be heard through the line as well.

"Okay, okay, lady," Holly was obviously talking to the other person involved. "I'm on the phone here."

There was quite a bit of shuffling and the sound of a gust of wind. Santana could almost swear she could make out Holly asking for the girl's number and the flirty laugh. Then, her voice was back, "So, I think I have to cancel, but we'll...yeah. Some other time."

Santana flung her phone on her bed, quickly followed by herself. She grabbed her pillow and screamed into it before flipping it under her head.

Then she made a hasty move. In order to avoid seeing the woman who had just ditched her, she needed to get the fuck out of Dodge. She called Finn.

He greeted her with that obnoxious Hudson tone, "You're coming?"

"When are we leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

"Dammit, Hudson, thanks for the fucking notice."

"I told you about it more than an hour ago," he said seriously.

"Fine," she said. "Pick me up."

"Yes, this is why I love you."

"Because I'm a chump?"

"Because you always come through, Lopez. Ever since the black crayon."

"Dependable ol' Santana," she said with a tinge of sadness.

"Hey," Finn picked up on it, "that's not a bad thing."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Less than twenty-four hours later, she was sitting on a small passenger plane on a runway at Lima Municipal Airport. All thirteen kids were chattering nonstop. Some were singing al-fucking-ready. She was absolutely certain that the glee club was making some of the business folks regret booking this flight.

"Why are we flying out of Lima again?" Santana asked Finn, who was her seatmate.

"It was cheaper," he answered. "The airline cut us a deal. Shop locally and all that jazz. Plus, no driving. Flying is safer, don't ya know?"

"Ah," she nodded. "I've heard that."

"From here to O'Hare, then a direct flight into Boise." He tapped her arm with his fist, "Less than seven hours if things go as planned."

"This is your captain speaking..." cut off anymore conversation.

Santana nearly dozed off while watching the one flight attendant give the pre-flight safety demonstration. Exit rows. Oxygen masks. Seats can be used as a floatation device. She knew all this already.

Actually, she may have really dozed off because she certainly wasn't prepared for the very loud, booming sound that seemed to rock her entire body. She was confused by the screams and the feeling that whoever was supposed to be in control of the plane, was obviously not. Metal screeched, sparks flew past the window, curses were bandied about, prayers were offered, her body was forced violently against against the armrest.

And then everything stopped.


	3. Takeoff

"Well this sucks," Santana announced as the early afternoon sun was beat down on her. It seemed a bit hotter than a normal Spring day in Ohio. Santana squinted off into the distance where the midsize plane she was on just a couple hours before had skidded off the runway as they were gaining speed for takeoff.

"That's one way to describe it," Finn remarked. He had just rejoined her outside the terminal. She noticed he was wearing a dazed expression and a fluorescent yellow emergency blanket draped around his shoulders. "I just had to talk down several anxious parents."

Santana turned to glance at the amassed gathering of worried guardians that had rushed to the airport upon hearing of the news.

"Were you able to calm them down?"

"Seeing their kids in one piece calmed them down more than anything."

"Yeah," she said. "You really took charge in there."

"With the parents? You weren't even there."

"In the plane."

"Hm," he shrugged. He let a moment pass before admitting, "I was scared."

"Me too." Santana said quietly. "Sooo...All expenses paid trip to Boise, huh?"

"Now you're excited about Boise?" he asked, glad to not have to talk about any sort of feelings.

"No, but I would have liked to have gotten further than the airport," she reached up to where her glasses would be by habit. They weren't there. They had fallen off in the crash and subsequently broken during the evacuation. She had her extra pair packed into her baggage, which they weren't allowed to access quite yet. So, there she stood, blind as a bat. "How's the peanut kid?"

"He'll be fine," Finn said. "Such a freak accident."

"Yeah, I've never heard of landing gear just falling off."

"Oh, that, too," Finn agreed. "But actually, I was talking about Blaine. So crazy."

It seemed that a stray pack of peanuts had contaminated Blaine's buffer zone during the crash. Being highly allergic, he immediately began to have problems breathing. Of course, with all the other craziness, no one noticed for a few minutes. It was only until the evacuation started that one of his buddies was able to identify the problem and stab him with his ever ready Epipen.

Blaine was rushed by ambulance to the hospital. Which was actually the lone injury during the entire event. Not counting Santana's crushed eyewear.

Santana couldn't lie. She envied Blaine Anderson. He was the only person who had been allowed to leave. The rest of the passengers on the flight had been detained for questioning. Interviews, actually.

"How much insight do they think we can offer?" she asked her buddy.

"I'm sure they're just eliminating any possible causes."

Santana pointed to the detached wheel that was still sitting on the tarmac. Even she could see that. "Open and shut, Inspector."

"I'd say that's the culprit," Tina Cohen-Chang said as she approached from behind the two friends.

"Ah!" Finn jumped a bit in surprise.

They really should have heard her, considering she was a Lima firefighter and still wearing much of her turnout gear.

"Did I scare you?" Tina asked Finn sincerely. "You're probably pretty shaken up, sorry."

"I'm fine," Santana raised her hand. "Thanks for asking."

Tina gave her a quick thumbs up before turning back to Finn, "You didn't hurt yourself or anything?"

"No, I don't think so."

Tina wedged in between them, forcing Santana to take a few steps due to Tina's fire suit. "I'm really glad you're okay."

"I bet you are," Santana choked.

"Thanks, Tina," Finn said. He nervously ran his hand through his hair. "You guys got out here fast. That's excellent...response time."

"Fastest in Ohio," Tina bragged.

"Plenty of people have said the same about Finn," Santana told her with a slug to Tina's kevlar covered arm. When both of them glared at her in response, Santana bit back her laugh. "I see my humor is not appreciated here."

"Oh," Finn tugged at the ends of the emergency blanket from around his shoulders, "Did you need this back?"

"Keep it," Tina said. "You were in a plane crash. Think of it as a souvenir."

"I will," Finn smiled.

"I've got to get back to the station," Tina hooked her thumb toward the fire truck. "You know, since there was no actual fire or anything."

"Just sparks," the man offered.

"Some crazy ass sparks," Santana said. "Sparks all over the damn place."

"Bye, Finn," Tina told him with a warm smile. She got a few steps away before adding with an afterthought, "See ya at book club, Papercut."

"You bet, Backdraft," Santana called to her.

She looked at Finn. He was doing his best not to look back. The intensity in which he was restraining himself made her laugh out loud.

"Don't," he growled, barely audible.

"You're so lame," she finally said.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Shut up."

"She's hot," Santana said glancing back over to where Tina was collecting the rest of her gear. Not that she could see her. She could, however, feel Finn's warning look. "Back down, Hudson," she slapped him on the back. "I'm not her type. And she's not mine."

"Not blonde," he said.

"Nor a lesbian."

"Hasn't always mattered."

"Bite your tongue." Santana pulled on his newly acquired blanket. "A souvenir? You practically melted. Or spontaneously combusted. She'd probably whip out her hose for that."

"Could you for once not give me shit about this?"

"Nope," Santana said. "You promised me a trip and got me into a plane crash. Now I'm hot and blind."

"Plane crashes make you bitchy."

"You're no bowl of peaches right now either, Stretch."

"I just want to get this over with," Finn complained. "Last time I was interviewed it was for Titan Time TV and that Rachel Berry kid asked me a series of very confusing questions while some other delinquent gave me bunny ears."

"This will probably be a different kind of interview, Finn."

"Still," his lip curled up, "I don't like being under pressure for answers."

"There's nothing to worry about. It was barely an event, I hardly think it's worth making a federal case out of it," she said as the sound of an incoming flight perked her ears.

There was definitely a plane coming in for landing. Although, with Santana's limited vision, it was just a gray splotch floating down from the sky. They watched wordlessly as it descended and touched down on the runway. They kept watching for several minutes until a group of very similarly dressed individuals got off the plane and gathered with the airport officials.

"Who's that?" she asked after studying the assortment of important looking folks.

"The NTSB," Finn answered. "Looks like they _are_ making a federal case out of it."

"That makes me think we may not be getting to Boise today," Santana commented.

"Nah," Finn said dejectedly. "I can't put twelve traumatized kids back on a plane. And there's no way to drive and make it. Plus, without Blaine, we wouldn't have much of a chance. The rest of the club just sort of hums and spins around him."

"You've got the alternate."

"Kamar?" Finn said in reference to the freshman who was still blowing into a paper bag in the waiting area. "He doesn't even know the lyrics. We just use him as an alternate because he travels with a wi-fi hotspot."

"So, you're not even going to compete? It's Nationals, Hudson. The reason why you live and breathe."

"Our big number was a mash-up of Train's Mermaid and Under the Sea," he looked around for any sign of one of the kids, "I was hoping for a Top Ten finish at best."

"Lots of faith you have in your club there."

"Ever repeat that and I'll kill you."

"Didn't you just try?" she gestured toward the plane again. "Flying is safer, my ass."

"Statistically."

As she skimmed her surroundings again, her gaze fell back on the assembled group with clipboards and matching jackets. Her eyes stopped on the faint outline of one of them. It looked like a woman. Possibly. She thought there was a wisp of blonde hair sticking out of the back of a blue hat.

She was still practically staring when they broke up. Half the people started the trek out toward the plane and the other half were coming toward her and Finn. The blonde one was definitely coming toward them. As she got closer, there was no mistaking it. She was definitely a woman. She walked like a woman. All graceful and gliding.

Santana realized she was still looking at her when she met the blonde's eyes. Her lips quirked up in a small smile, which Santana reciprocated without a thought.

"You two were on the plane, right?" asked the Asian guy accompanying her.

"Yeah," Finn answered.

"Hi," the guy held out his hand for Finn to shake. "Mike Chang. I'm with the National Transportation Safety Board."

"Finn Hudson," Finn said back. "I'm with the McKinley High Glee Club."

"We'll be doing your interviews shortly," Mike told them. "You can just follow us. I think they have the conference room ready inside. Then you can get on with your lives."

"Sounds good," Finn said as they watched Mike and the woman enter the building.

"Go with the blonde!"

Santana heard a screeching voice in her head insist on it. At least she thought it was in her head. When she instinctively searched for the source of the sound, she saw a young woman wearing what looked like a halo. She squinted. Maybe it was a gold headband. In any event, the woman was pointing with purpose.

While Santana was momentarily stunned by the strangeness, Finn walked right past her. "I've got dibs on the hot girl," he said.

"Huh?" she followed him with her eyes until she realized he meant the same girl that she was being urged to. "Hey," she called with no avail.

When she looked for the gold headband again, the girl had disappeared. "Well, fuck. Add hallucinations to the list of reasons why this is shaping up to be one hell of a day."


	4. Gear Up

Tots Diner was relatively busy. It was on most Saturday afternoons. Santana skimmed the faces of the little hole in the wall restaurant that one of her best friend's owned. A great number of them she knew and had for much of her life. A few, she didn't.

Most weekends Santana and Finn ended up here at some point. They had their normal booth. Always sitting on the same side, always having the same order. A delicious burger each and they'd go halfsies on the jumbo tots. Today, Finn had decided to branch out and ordered some fries instead.

"I don't know, Santana," Finn sighed dramatically. "It's like I woke up today with a whole new lease on life. I looked at the window and thought, 'What a beautiful day!'"

"Glad to be alive, huh?" Santana humored him as she crinkled her nose at the eight french fries he was trying to shove in his mouth at once.

"Exactly," he said between bites.

"I give it three days," she said. "This newfound wonder at life. Then you'll be back to normal."

"Stop dampening my spirit."

"I woke up achy and still in Lima, I'd pee on your spirit given the chance."

"Our brush with death has taught you nothing."

"We did not have a brush with death," Santana started to argue the merits of being almost killed literally vs. being in an accident that could have led to death in other circumstances, but she was interrupted.

"Oh my goodness," Mercedes Jones said as she scooted into the booth next to Finn. "I heard about the crash. You two could be dead right now."

"I choked while drinking a juice box this morning. Could have died then, too," Santana said as she eyed the last bite of her burger.

"That's different," Mercedes said seriously.

Santana scratched her chin, gave it a few seconds of thought. "Not really."

"Santana is doing her best not to let it affect her," Finn told Mercedes.

Mercedes was perplexed by that attitude. "This should be a wake up call."

"I'm telling you, Cedes. I actually came closer to dying by Cranapple," Santana argued.

"You did not," Finn pointed a fry at her.

"How would you know? You weren't there. There was like a millionth of a second that I really thought I was a goner."

"Whatever," Finn popped the fry in his mouth. "I'm just happy we survived yesterday."

"Yes, indeed, Finn Hudson," Mercedes grabbed his hand. "Praise."

"Lived another day to choke on some juice," Santana remarked.

"I tell you what," Mercedes said as she scooted back out of the booth. "Milkshakes on the house today for my friends. My friends who narrowly escaped that long, long journey to the golden promise land. Hallelujah."

"Amen," Finn said.

"Any flavor?" Santana asked. "You know I want the Santana Choco-Banana."

"I'll send it out," Mercedes said. "And strawberry for Finn."

"I'm living out loud," Finn announced, "I want the Cookies 'n' Cream."

Mercedes paused, "What's that?"

"Cookies 'n' Cream!" Finn said with certainty. "I've been thinking about having one for weeks now."

"You bet your buttons, Hudson!" Mercedes said. "They'll be right out."

"Cookies 'n' Cream? I don't even know you anymore," Santana scoffed as Mercedes made her way back toward the kitchen.

"Get used to it. I'm a new man."

"I'll try to adjust," Santana replied while brushing a loose, dark strand behind her ear. With the slight turn of her head, she saw a familiar head of blonde hair.

She had glanced over to her table several times already today. Now she was coming out of the restroom. Santana breathed out slowly as the woman came nearer. The blonde was looking at her phone, but looked up to see where she was going. Some short chick wearing entirely too much pink forced her to walk around her and closer to Santana's table. The moment Santana got a good look at her face she could have sworn she heard Mercedes say "Hallelujah!" again.

She knew that girl from somewhere. Santana racked her brain quickly. Where had she seen her before? Had she slept with her? No. Had Finn slept with her? No. High School? No. Was she the girl that sold her the used coffee table on Craigslist? Ehhh...no.

Santana tried in vain to look away from the approaching woman, but she only succeeded in putting her hand in the ketchup on her plate. "Dammit!"

She pulled a rolled up napkin off the table, letting the silverware fall with a clank to the table, and wiped it off hastily.

Finn jumped at the sound, "Crap, Lopez, you scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," she said to Finn, but tried to get another look at the stranger.

She was just about to ask Finn when the girl had stopped right at their table. Santana tilted her face up and pushed her glasses into position. "Uh, hi."

"Hi there," the blonde offered her a shy wave of her hand. "I was going to say you look much more relaxed than the last time I saw you, but..."

"Ms. Pierce," Finn said with a weird half grin. He rested his arms against the back of the booth he was sitting in, "Nice to see you again."

The woman's gaze slid over to him, "Yeah...uh...Ben?"

"Finn," he corrected.

"Ah," she nodded. "Nice to see you again as well."

"You two know each other?" Santana asked intently. "How?"

"She's with the NTSB," Finn told her. "Remember?"

"Oh," she replied. "Oh! Ohhh," she sat up a little straighter. "Oh, of course."

"We met yesterday," the blonde provided. "I interviewed him."

"Of course," Santana said. "I saw you. I mean, I saw you there. Well, I saw your outline because my glasses were broken, but...now I see you. Not that I was staring. Now or then. I just meant, I saw you interviewing. Not literally or anything, I didn't actually see you interview Hudson. I was being interviewed myself."

"By my colleague," Brittany pointed over to where Mike Chang was giving them all a winning smile.

"Yeah," Santana acknowledged the man with a smile in return. "That's the one. I got close enough to see him." Her head whipped back to face Brittany, "Not that I was intentionally getting close to him. That's not really my thing."

"Understandable," the woman replied. "Sometimes his breath smells like dim sum."

Santana snorted at the comment.

"Brittany," Ms. Pierce held out her hand. "I'm Brittany."

"Santana." Santana almost shook it, but realized she still had some ketchup. "Oh," she pulled her hand back. She grabbed the napkin again, "I'm Santana."

"Santana," Brittany repeated.

"That's me."

"I was just thinking," Brittany started and stopped. She laughed a little to herself, "Actually when I saw you yesterday, I was thinking that I knew you from somewhere."

"Me?" Santana pointed to herself, "From before yesterday? I don't think so. Are you from around here?"

"Indianapolis."

"Oh," Santana was surprised. "I lived in Indy for a little while."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Then maybe I did see you around."

"I guess it's possible," Santana nodded. "I was there for a year, but I've been back here for a year or so now."

"Oh, well I've lived in Chicago for three."

"Haven't spent much time in Chicago."

"Not Indy and not Chicago," Brittany's face scrunched in thought. "I could swear that we've met before, though."

"Hmm," Santana shrugged.

"She has one of those faces," Finn butted into the conversation.

"What faces?" Santana shot him a look. "What kind of face do I have, Hudson?"

"One of those faces where you look like other people," he answered.

"I do not."

"She doesn't," Brittany agreed.

"See," Santana pointed at the blonde who had just made her point. "I don't."

"Which means I must have seen you somewhere before, Santana."

"I guess so," Santana smiled at her with her one-of-a-kind face.

"Santana Choco-Banana," Tots head waiter, Flanagan, said as he approached them. "And..." he looked at Finn questionably, "Cookies 'n' cream?"

"Yes," Finn knocked on the table. "I'm making some changes."

Brittany awkwardly shuffled out of the way as Flanagan attempted to get around her. "Looks good." She pointed toward Santana's shake.

"Tots has the best shakes in western Ohio," Santana said. "You should have one."

"Maybe I will...sometime."

"Santana Choco-Banana."

"Will I have to order it like that?" Brittany asked, trying to keep the grin off her face.

"Might get you a discount."

"That settles it then." Brittany must have suddenly realized that she was slowly leaning down closer to where Santana was seated. She straightened up and took a step back. "Well, I have to get back to lunch. Then back to work."

"Yeah, of course," Santana said. "Nice meeting you."

She watched Brittany pass by. She didn't take her eyes off her ass all the way back to her table. Santana swallowed hard when she glided back into her seat.

"Damn," she said to herself before forcing herself to turn back to Finn.

"What was that?" Finn asked with wide eyes.

"What?"

"She was hitting on you!"

"Oh, Finn," Santana mock pouted. "Are you so disillusioned by all the non-action that you're getting that you now fail to recognize when a girl is just talking. And let me assure you, some girls are just talking."

"Sure. Just like when Amy from the hardware store was just checking me out."

"Offering you a complimentary pen is not an invitation for sex, Finn."

"A pen shaped like a nail," the man said slyly. "Amy the Hardware Girl was a not a subtle one."

"You're an idiot."

"A _pen_ shaped like a _nail_."

"She offered Old Man Hagberg one right after you," Santana broke the news. "Unless she has a thing for both morons and old, wrinkly farts, I'd say she was just doing her job."

"Why are we talking about me?" Finn diverted the topic. "That girl was hitting on you."

"No, she wasn't," Santana subtly looked over her shoulder again.

The blonde was still there staring into her phone. She seemed to be concentrating pretty hard and swiping across it with her thumb intermittently. Santana lingered a bit too long because Brittany glanced up quickly before double-taking. Brittany smiled another warm smile at her. When she looked back down, her eyebrows furrowed and Santana could see her lips form the word, "damn."

"She wasn't," Santana said to Finn.

"Was," Finn sucked obnoxiously on his straw. When he finally got some cookies 'n' cream, he immediately frowned.

"You don't like it?"

"It's okay," he said, although not very convincingly.

"Should have stuck with strawberry, Hudson," Santana smirked. "This is what you get for having a life-affirming experience. Disappointment and dissatisfaction."

Finn pushed his shake away, "Just because Cookies 'n' Cream didn't work out doesn't mean I'm on the wrong track."

"Doesn't mean you're on the right one either."

"Just wait," Finn said with a gleam in his eye. "I feel like your life-affirming experience is just around the corner."


	5. Wake Turbulence

"Slow the fuck down, Lady," Santana yelled to Kurt. "I'm still a little sore, here."

"You should be working those muscles," he said, but slowed to more of a power stroll instead of jet pack walk anyway. He was still pumping his arms in time with his legs, though, as he and Santana walked the path at the Lima Gardenia Gardens Park.

Santana jogged a little to catch up. "I should have known I'd be chasing after you when I agreed to this."

"I do appreciate it," Kurt said. "I tried to get my dad to come with me, but he's still on the mend from falling off that ladder."

"That's too bad."

"I think it's an excuse," Kurt spoke.

"Probably," Santana nodded. "So what was your big announcement? Finn never told me."

"Oh!" Kurt skipped a little. He did two quick claps as well. "I got a part!"

"Is this part bigger than Angry Mobster #3?"

"Yes," Kurt said with a bit of attitude. "I've got a whole page of speaking parts."

"This is more exciting than when you were one of Joseph's Brothers."

"You just had to bring that up, didn't you?" That hit Kurt's bitter button. "I would have rocked that technicolor dreamcoat."

"Nobody rocks a rainbow better than you, Kurt," Santana assured him. "So, your career is taking off, how goes your love life?"

Kurt did the same skip and clap. "It's going well."

"How is Artie?"

"Arthur."

"Arthur, yeah."

"Fantastic," he squealed. "He made me a romantic dinner in celebration. He's so sweet."

"How long you two been together now?"

"A couple years," Kurt muttered knowing how this segue would lead to.

"And when are you going to introduce him to your parents?"

Exactly as he predicted. "We've put it on a timetable."

"Oh?" Santana noticed Kurt slowing down. "Have a date set?"

"Late 2016," Kurt said. "Probably in the fall as the leaves are just beginning to change. It will provide a nice backdrop."

"Backdrop for what exactly?"

"I don't know," Kurt shrugged. "Life in general. Anyway, enough time before the holidays that everyone will have adjusted."

"Kurt, Kurt, Kurt."

"What? What, what?"

"They know."

"My parents let me dress up as Dorothy for Halloween ten years in a row," Kurt told her. "The last year, I was 16. Of course, they know. That's eight different pairs of ruby slippers they bought. One year, I actually grew my hair out for realistic braids. They know."

"Then why not just tell them? Introduce them to Artie-"

"Arthur."

"Arthur," Santana corrected herself. "And let them see that you're happy."

"You have to come see my play," Kurt said, sidestepping that trap. "I'll get tickets for you and Finn."

"We will," she said.

"You guys can drive up to Chicago and make a weekend out of it," he offered. "Stay with Arthur and I."

"Finn owes me an all expenses paid trip to somewhere," Santana said. "Might as well be Chicago and sleeping on your pull-out sofa."

"Might as well." Kurt gave her a long stare before asking, "So...you and love?"

"Me and love what?"

"Is there a special lady in your life?"

"Yes," Santana said. "My mother is very special. She's also in Fort Lauderdale, playing tennis and drinking morning mimosas."

"I can tell by the way you avoided the question that there isn't."

"Well, that was a bitchy thing to say," Santana thumped him.

"Finn told me about Holly."

"Finn has a big mouth," Santana said.

"He does."

"He really does," she held up her hand in an oval. "Huge. Have you seen him eat? I think he shoved an entire side of ribs in there last week."

"What's the deal with Holly?"

"Nothing," Santana abandoned her plan of distracting him. "It's nothing. Just fun. Just sex."

"On her terms."

"Is that what he said?" Santana stopped in her tracks. "What a fucker."

Kurt stopped a few steps ahead, "Is that true?"

"Could be, but he doesn't have to actually say it," she resumed walking.

"He wanted me to talk to you about it."

"He's such a pansy," Santana said of her best friend. "He's just afraid that I'll bring up his desperate, sad ass crush on Tina Cohen-Chang."

"Wait!" It was Kurt's turn to come to an abrupt halt. "He's still harboring the flame for Cohen-Chang?"

"Yes!"

"Oh my god," Kurt mouth hung open. "That's why he keeps moving the toaster underneath the paper towel roll, isn't it?."

"And why he's always carting around gas in unapproved containers," Santana explained.

"Tina Cohen-Chang," Kurt chuckled. "It's been so long since he's mentioned her."

"She was dating some guy for a while. Some other firefighter," Santana said. "We saw them out a lot. I think it broke Finn's heart."

"That's..."

"I know," she said with sympathy.

"Hm," Kurt said in thought.

While lost in his thoughtfulness, he was bumped pretty hard by a small woman singing horribly to the Adele that was pumping through her headphones.

"Sorry," she screamed loudly.

"S'okay," Kurt shouted back as she continued past.

"As far as any ladies in my life right now," Santana shrugged. "I just haven't met anybody."

"You should get out there."

"Where's there?" Santana asked thoughtfully. "Everybody always says that, but I don't know where 'there' is. Believe me, if I knew where the 'there' that all the single, awesome lesbians were hanging out, I'd be 'there.'"

Kurt mulled this over. "New England...I think that's where the lesbians are. Maybe you should move to Massachusetts."

"You know, I did meet this interesting woman the other day-"

"Brittany," Kurt said as he looked past Santana.

"Yeah," Santana was surprised. "How did you know that?"

"What?" Kurt eyes snapped back to hers, clearly confused.

"Brittany?"

"Yeah." Kurt pointed off into the distance. A blonde woman in shorts and a tank was jogging toward them. "I know her."

"So do I," Santana stared. "Well, kinda."

They both stood and watched her. Kurt smiling at his pal from Chicago, Santana mesmerized by the legs on display.

"Kurt?" Brittany said in surprise when she met them. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm from Lima. My parents and brother still live here," he said. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

"Working," she answered simply. She looked down at herself, "Not right now, obviously. But I'm investigating the plane crash."

"That's how I know her," Santana said.

"Yeah," Brittany seemed to be talking to Kurt but her eyes dragged over Santana, giving her a full body scan. "Hi again," she said when their eyes met.

"Brittany."

"Santana." Brittany waited just a second before adding, "Lopez...I looked at the passenger list. Hope you don't mind."

"Of course not."

"Arthur and I always pegged you for a zookeeper," Kurt laughed. He then directed his comments at Santana, "Brittany lives in the apartment above us. Sometimes we get her mail."

"Small world," Santana remarked.

Brittany patted Kurt's shoulder before returning to the brunette. "It certainly is."

"Are you going to be here for a while?" Kurt asked.

"It's looking like a few days," Brittany answered.

"You should come to dinner at my parents' house then," Kurt told her. "I'm in town for a long weekend."

"I don't want to impose."

"No, no, you wouldn't be," Kurt insisted. "The more the merrier. My brother will be there. Santana usually comes, too."

"Yeah," Santana agreed. "Dinner at the Hudsons is always a good time. You should definitely come."

"I would love to," Brittany accepted over the sound of Kurt's phone ringing.

He dug his phone out and his eyes lit up when he looked at the screen, "It's Arthur."

"The boyfriend, not the king," Santana said as Kurt stepped away from the two of them.

Brittany nodded, "So, you'll be at this dinner?"

"Finn usually strong arms me into them someway, somehow."

"You and Finn..."

"...Love a free meal."

"Who doesn't?"

"Hudson is my best friend," Santana answered the implied question. "We've been friends since we were five."

"Batman and Robin."

"More like Cagney and Lacey," Santana said. When Brittany's eyebrow raised in question, Santana explained. "Sorry, my mom's recorded video with one of their reunion shows got stuck in my VCR for the entire year I was in second grade."

"Okay," Brittany said still not knowing the hell Cagney and Lacey were.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Kurt said when he rejoined them. "Give you the time. I'll send Finn to pick you up from wherever you're staying."

"That sounds great." Brittany motioned toward Santana. "I'll see you then."

"You will," Santana replied.

Kurt waited until Brittany had resumed her run before saying, "You're welcome."

"I'm welcome? To what? Lobster bisque?"

"For that."

"For what, Kurt?"

"Brittany," Kurt stated. "You're welcome."

"Don't even think about it," Santana warned.

"You were practically drooling."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do," Kurt said.

"Oh, I think I don't."

"Sure." Kurt began to walk. "I don't blame you. She's pretty hot."

"Is she?"

Kurt turned around to walk backwards, "And really sweet."

Santana really tried to act disinterested. "Sweet, huh?"

"Nice girl."

"Nice is good."

"And haven't seen that ex-girlfriend of hers in months."

"Ex-girlfriend," Santana repeated. She tried not to smile at that news.

"_Thank you, Kurt_," he tried to coax out of her.

"We'll see, Kurt."

"Good enough," he said before spinning on his heels and picking up his jet pack walk.


	6. Wings Level

A night later, Santana found herself sitting in her car outside the Marriott. The air conditioning was streaming through the vents. It wasn't so much because it was hot outside, as she didn't want to sweat from the nervousness.

She cursed Kurt for arranging this. It made so much more sense for Santana to pick Brittany up for dinner. Of course. It really did, it was right on her way. Santana knew that he had this planned all along, though. As well-intentioned as the ruse was, and Kurt was well-intentioned, it was also just fucking awkward.

She looked at herself again in the reflection of her rearview mirror. Everything was in place. Hair looked okay. She checked her teeth, nothing there.

When she checked the entrance of the hotel again, she saw Brittany. The wind was blowing her hair slightly and she used both hands to brush it away. She adjusted the aviators that were shielding her eyes from the sun and searched the parking lot. Santana momentarily considered getting out of the car, but Brittany seemed to locate her before she had to.

Santana took a deep breath as Brittany approached. She tried to look casual and leaned back in her seat. She rested her elbow on her console and tapped her finger on the gearshift. She was so busy telling herself how casual she was that she missed Brittany pull on the door handle. It wasn't until the blonde knocked on the car window that she had realized the door was still locked.

"Sorry," she apologized while watching a long, tan leg enter the car. It was followed by a long, tan body.

"Hey," Brittany said with a big smile. "Thanks so much for coming out here to get me."

"I was driving by," Santana told her. "Wasn't a big deal."

"Well, thanks anyway," Brittany said as she buckled in her seat belt.

"Sure."

Santana wordlessly backed out of the spot and drove. She kept on driving, not realizing until about halfway there that she had yet to say another word except the expletive she yelled at the kid flipping the sign for The Sugar Shack when a particularly high toss had gone awry and fallen into the street.

She was definitely aware of every move she made, though. She was still trying to be as casual as possible. Maybe she was being too casual. Maybe she'd been so casual that she skipped right to overly comfortable. And maybe overly comfortable had become uncomfortable.

Shit. Now she had to undo it.

The uncomfortable silence stretched out. It really wasn't because it was so uncomfortable being alone in her car with a gorgeous stranger. It was that Santana had no idea what to say. It wasn't like she was anti-social or anything, something about Brittany just made her so anxious.

She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, wanting to laugh at herself for the ten and two placement. When her eyes drifted over to Brittany, she saw the blonde immersed in something on her phone. The quiet chimes made it sound like some sort of game.

"What are you playing?" Santana asked. Finally, words. Good job.

"Um..." Brittany swiped a couple of times. She seemed pretty intent. After a few moments, she flashed a paused screen at Santana. "Flying With Friends."

"Flying," Santana nodded. "Sounds about right."

"You fly a little plane through this maze," Brittany explained. "Over all these traps and stuff. And you're competing with other people. One on one. Mike and I are kind of obsessed with it right now."

"Cool."

"Wow," Brittany seemed to have a realization. She placed her phone in her lap. "That's rude, isn't it? Sorry. I just got the impression you weren't a big chit-chatter."

"I'm not."

"Yeah."

"Not that I don't want to...chit-chat," Santana clarified.

"Awesome," Brittany turned as much as her seatbelt would allow. "So, you're a teacher at the high school?"

"What?" Santana snapped around to look at her. "No."

"Oh, I just assumed."

"Because I was chaperoning," Santana put the pieces together. "Oh no. No, no. I was just helping out. Actually, I own a bookstore."

"Here?"

"Yeah." Santana pulled at her seatbelt. "Novelties."

"Novelties?"

"That's the name of my bookstore."

"Cool name."

"Thanks," Santana smiled. "It's in Lima's gay district. Which is only one building with three gay shops. I'm the middle one, in between Leather Daddy's Bar and Grill and the space converted to a choir room where the Over the Rainbow All Gay Chorus meets twice a week."

"Ahh." Brittany tucked her hair behind her ear. "That must be why Kurt invited me to dinner."

"Forgive him," Santana said. "He's hopelessly lame."

"I'm sorry if this is..."

"What?" Santana asked.

"Uh..." Brittany stretched her legs for some distraction. It succeeded in distracting Santana's attention for a second before she realized she was driving. "If this is some sort of set-up that I didn't catch onto."

"Don't be sorry," the brunette said, staring at the road in front of her. "Just a friendly dinner."

"Whew!" Brittany exaggeratedly wiped her brow.

"I'll try not to be offended by that."

"What?" Brittany leaned over and almost touched Santana's arm. Almost, but not quite. "No, no. God, I'm sorry. I just meant, I'm glad there's no weirdness or pressure or whatever."

Santana held out a few moments before smiling, "I was kidding."

"Of course," Brittany leaned back in her seat and grabbed her phone again. "It wouldn't have been so bad, though."

She couldn't help but smile at the words that Brittany had muttered.

When Santana pulled into the driveway, Kurt was waiting on the porch. He had a hand towel slung over his shoulder and his Human Torch apron was tied around his waist.

"Hi," he waved. "So glad you both could make it. Together."

Santana glared at him as she shut the door. She walked a few steps up the concrete path before saying, "Yeah, Kurt. How was Finn's proctologist appointment?"

"His wha-?" Kurt momentarily forgot his ridiculous excuse for the change of plans. "Oh, yeah. His appointment...that's actually next week." He said it loud enough for Brittany to hear as she trailed Santana. "My mistake."

"Uh huh," Santana hadn't bought it for a second. For one, Kurt was a terrible liar. And secondly, Finn was way too much of an oversharer for her to not know that he had a proctologist appointment.

"Dinner's nearly ready," Kurt ignored the venomous looks. "Go ahead and wash up."

Dinner was nearly ready. Just a few minutes after they'd entered the house, they were seated around the table. Introductions had been made and the conversation was light until Brittany asked a question of Kurt.

"So I guess Arthur was stuck in Chicago this weekend?"

The question was innocent.

"Y-yes," he answered quickly.

His sputtering was not.

"Arthur?" Burt inquired.

"Yeah, Arthur," Kurt said. "I've mentioned him."

"No, you haven't," Carole said. "I would remember a friend of yours named Arthur."

"You haven't met him yet?" Brittany looked between Kurt's parents.

"I haven't," Carole shook her head. She regarded her husband, "Have you?"

"No," Burt said. "No Arthur."

"I have," Finn said loudly. He was really trying to deter the conversation, but probably made it worse.

"You have?" Carole asked. She looked at Kurt, "Then why haven't I?"

"I don't know, Mom," he said shoving a roll into his mouth. He shrugged when his mouth was full.

"You haven't been to visit him in a while, Mom," Finn said. "That's probably why."

"I haven't been invited," Carole countered as she scooped up a spoonful of mashed potato.

"He's a great guy," Brittany continued, completely unaware of what she was actually doing. "The two of them are so cute together."

"Are they?" Burt asked suspiciously. He picked up his glass of water just to set it back down.

Kurt, who was in the grip of near panic, had turned white as a ghost. Finn chewed so forcefully that his teeth might fall out. And Brittany was slowly starting to realize what was happening.

"So, we were in a plane crash," Santana blurted out. "Could have died."

"That's true," Finn said around his food. "That's why I've decided to make some changes in my life."

"He's making changes," Santana nodded. "Lots of changes."

"Oh yeah, Son?" Burt asked. "What have you changed so far?"

"Uh..." Finn clinked his plate with the tines of his fork. "I, uh..."

"He had a Cookie 'n' Cream milkshake at Tots," Santana interjected. "If that isn't a change, I don't know what is."

"Branching out," Burt smiled. "Good for you, Finn."

"Not that he enjoyed it."

"It was hard to get those cookie chunks through the straw," Finn told everyone.

"You shouldn't have to work so hard for some milkshake," Santana slapped her friend on the back.

"I'm sorry to hear about your milkshake troubles, Finn, dear," Carole said. She looked pointedly at Kurt, "But I want to hear about Arthur."

"Arthur's not a big fan of milkshakes," Kurt replied. "He's lactose intolerant."

Brittany was mortified by the secret she had obviously and inadvertently let slip. She was quickly trying to find a way to rectify the situation, "When I said cute together," she said loudly, "I meant as buddies. In a heterosexual way."

Santana coughed, "How 'bout them Reds, huh?"

"Hell of a Spring training they had," Finn answered.

"Solid pitching."

"Middle of the lineup power, too."

"Good looking rookie at third," Burt took the bait. "Strong arm, nice bat."

Even Carole seemed to be distracted by the hard turn the conversation had taken, but Kurt had hit his limit.

"I'm gay," he said. He rose from his chair and puffed out his chest. "I'm gay, okay."

Everyone's eyes were trained on him for any more he was going to say. Kurt, for his part, gave his father a glance from the corner of his eye.

"Hey, Kurt," Burt replied. "Finn and I played catch. You and I played tea party. I already knew that, Son."

When Kurt's head swiveled to his mother, she nodded. "So tell us about Arthur already."

Kurt silently sunk back to his seat. "He's great."

"That's nice, Son," Burt patted his back.

"So, Kurt," Carole's gaze narrowed on him. "Why in the hell haven't we met this great guy that you've been hiding? Are you ashamed of your parents or something?"

"Of course not!" Kurt argued.

"I know we're not fancy," Burt said. "But if you've got a significant other, we should meet him. See if he's good enough for our boy."

"You introduced him to Finn," Carole said. "But not your mother?"

"This seems like a family discussion," Santana said as she folded her hands together. "So we're just gonna leave." She got up from the table very slowly and tapped Brittany's shoulder. "Thanks for the delicious meal."

"You're welcome, dear," Carole said.

"Nice meeting you," Brittany choked out.

"You, too," Burt said, tilting his cap up in acknowledgment.

As soon as they were seated in Santana's car, she began to laugh. Loudly.

"Oh my god," Brittany slapped at her thigh. "Stop laughing!"

"You just outed Kurt to his parents," the brunette continued.

"I can't believe I did that. He probably hates me," Brittany's face dropped into her hands.

"No, no," Santana said as she put the car in reverse. "It's fine. It will be fine."

"I didn't know." Brittany bit her lip. "I mean, it's Kurt. _Kurt_."

"Yeah."

"He's so..."

"Kurt?"

"Yes," Brittany said.

"It will be fine," Santana said with certainty. "It could have been worse. Finn outed me in front of the whole school when we were in seniors."

Brittany gaped, "And you're still friends?"

"Well, he outed me then I punched him in the face, so our friendship was a little strained for a while," Santana explained. "But yeah."

"That's big of you."

"I think most people already knew," Santana admitted. "It certainly didn't help that I always smelled like a golf course."

"Dead give away."

"Everytime."

The drive back was filled with mostly laughing at a replay of dinner. The time passed way too quickly and soon they were pulling into the Marriott.

"Kurt's face," Santana chuckled. "Priceless."

"Are you sure it will be okay?"

"It was the worst kept secret ever, Britt," Santana said. "Yes. Burt and Carole are top-notch. They love their boys, no matter what. Besides, they're way more likely to disown Finn for being a doofus than Kurt for being gay."

Brittany was relieved by yet another reassurance that she hadn't ruined their lives. "So..." she slowly unbuckled her seat belt.

"Yeah," Santana fiddled with the knob on the stereo. "I...hope you had, uh, fun. Well, as much fun as you possibly could."

"I enjoyed myself," Brittany smiled and she tapped on the door handle. "It was cool to meet Kurt's family...and hang out with you...and Finn."

"We do try to entertain."

"I can see that," Brittany stared out the window at the building in front of them. "I'm really glad Kurt invited me. Nights are pretty boring stuck in the hotel room."

"I bet."

"Nice to get out."

"Lima isn't exactly a bustling metropolis."

Brittany laughed, "No, it's not. Not a whole lot going on, is there?"

"No, no. Not too much at all."

"So, you don't have anything going on? Tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow?" Santana thought out loud. "Hm...tomorrow? Yeah, actually. I have plans for tomorrow."

"Oh," Brittany was obviously disappointed. "Of course, you do. Yeah."

"Did you...uh...want to hang out?"

"You're busy."

"No, no. I'm not. Well, I am. But...I have book club tomorrow night. You can come with me if you want," Santana said. "It's certainly not exclusive, but it's a pretty tough group. We used to all play roller derby together before the eight skate pileup."

"Book club? Sounds relatively tame."

"And it is until you have a disagreement about literary devices and someone gets body checked into the mini bar."

"Well," Brittany swallowed nervously. "I'd like to come. If it's okay?"

"Sure."

"Pick me up tomorrow?"

"I can do that," Santana bit back the smile on her lips.

Brittany opened the door and had nearly stepped out when she twisted back around, "Wait a second," her eyes were wide. "I haven't read the book."

"Oh," Santana waved it off. "It's just some long distance romance thing. I'll give you the cliff's notes on the way over."

"Tomorrow then."


	7. Cruising Altitude

"Symbolism?!" Santana heard a booming voice as soon as Tina's door creaked open. "What symbolism?"

Tina smiled in greeting, but hooked her thumb over her shoulder. "Sorry. Beiste and Zizes are having a disagreement about the book."

"Sounds about right," Santana said. She took a step forward revealing her guest. "Backdraft, this is Brittany."

"I thought you said her name was Tina?" Brittany asked confused.

"It is," Tina told her. "Backdraft was my Derby name."

"Ah," Brittany nodded. "Before the eight skate pileup."

Tina looked somber for a moment, "I lost a finger and a tooth."

Brittany immediately looked to her hands for proof of what she had just said.

"Surgically reattached," Tina wiggled all of her fingers, leaving Brittany to guess which one. "Good thing there's a surgeon on the team."

As if she knew she was being talked about, a shorter woman popped up next to Brittany. Her eyes narrowed and she looked like she was just brimming with attitude, "Cat Scratch Cleaver," the woman held out her hand.

"Or just Kitty," Santana said.

"Or Dr. Wilde," Kitty snipped.

"Or Bitch," Santana followed.

Kitty eyed her for several moments before her lips gave way to a grin, "Papercut brought her lady balls, everybody."

"Papercut!" Zizes yelled. She held up her beer in greeting. "Get your ass over here and educate Beiste on the meaning of symbolism."

"In a sec," Santana dismissed her. She really didn't want to get in the middle of those two. Santana gestured with her head, inviting Brittany deeper into the room. "Don't be scared, they won't bite."

"Speak for yourself," another young lady said as she rolled by.

"Dammit, Wheels," Santana jumped back. "How many times have I told you not to skate near me when I'm wearing flip flops!"

"Sorry," she said insincerely.

"That's Marley," Santana pointed after her. "Watch your toes around her."

Brittany seemed to make a mental note, "Gotcha."

"Finger sandwich?" a woman with long, bright red hair asked. She smiled sweetly at Brittany as she held up a silver tray full of tiny treats.

"Thanks," Brittany smiled back as she took an offered sandwich.

"This is Bloody Massacre," Santana introduced her.

Brittany choked on the appetizer, "What?" She couldn't reconcile the demure looking woman dressed in a pale green 50s housewife dress with the name Bloody Massacre.

"Emma," the woman said. "I'm just Emma now. Since the eight skate pileup."

When Emma had gotten a few steps away, Santana audibly sighed, "She still blames herself."

"Who wants another?" a voice with a southern twang rang out behind them. Brittany was startled by the blonde lady scooping beers out of a cooler. "Beer?" the woman asked her.

"Okay," Brittany said.

"Good answer," the woman said.

In a second, a cold, wet beer can was tossed at her.

"Rhodes Rage," Santana whispered to Brittany.

"Okay," Tina clapped her hands. "Let's get started. What did everyone think?"

The group of women all looked around at each other waiting for someone to talk.

Finally Beiste said, "Well, I liked it okay."

"It was a little boring," Zizes complained. "Not enough action."

"Action?" Santana interjected. "What kind of action?"

"I don't know...just...action."

"Like crime-fighting? Or what? Sex?"

"Not enough of that either," she said. Zizes looked past Santana and asked Brittany, "Did you read it?"

"Uh..." Brittany glanced at the woman who had brought her for an answer. When Santana offered none, she told the truth. "No, I didn't."

"You didn't miss much," Zizes shrugged.

"Okay, okay," Tina chirped. "Kitty?"

Kitty looked up from the iPad she was studying, "What?"

"What did you think?"

"Of?"

"The book!" Santana filled her in. "Did you like the book?"

"Oh, I didn't read the book," Kitty laughed like the mere thought was entirely beneath her. "I'm a doctor. I'm a busy woman. Like I have time to sit around and read some book about...what was it about again?"

"A geographically challenged love affair. Or something stupid like that," April Rhodes answered between gulps of her beer. "I wouldn't know. I was just using it as a coaster, but I'm pretty sure that's what it said inside the bottle ring. "

"Lame," Marley said as she sat further back on the couch. She propped her skate covered feet on Tina's table with a thump. "I'm glad I didn't waste my time then."

"So none of you even read the damn book?" Santana blew out a frustrated breath.

"Neither did she!" Marley pointed to Brittany.

"She's a guest," Santana argued.

"So," Marley rolled her eyes. "I don't read shit unless it's a movie."

"Probably because you can't," Zizes muttered.

"Hey!" Marley shot her a look, "You want to take this outside?"

"Chill out!" Tina yelled. She was the resident peacemaker of the group. With a book club of former roller derby players, there had to be one.

"I can't believe you guys," Santana complained. "You had a whole month."

Emma cleared her throat quietly and raised her hand. "I must confess, Santana. I didn't read the book either."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I really am," the redhead continued. "But I had a very busy month. I had to make several orders of mini quiches, it was my month in the church nursery. And, of course, you all know I've been volunteering with collections for the troops. Most of my reading was contained to just The Good Book."

With no one actually reading the book, the roundtable discussion was mostly just arguing and throwing things at each other. Finally, Tina had the good sense to break for food and refreshments.

"What's the story?" Kitty asked when she wandered up next to Santana later.

The brunette was busy pouring herself a drink from the pitcher of sweet tea that Emma had brewed. She was fairly certain that it had been spiked with something and she was just hoping that it hadn't been roofied as well. Marley was known to keep her rohypnol and adderall in the same pill bottle.

"What story?"

"With your friend?" Kitty asked.

"She's in town for a little while," Santana answered. "She's working...doesn't know anybody here, so I invited her to hang out. It's not like a date or anything."

"No shit," Kitty laughed. Actually, Santana would liken it to a near-honk.

"What the fuck is that about?"

"Not a date," Kitty said. "Of course, it's not."

"I could be on a date."

"With who?" Kitty looked around just to be a bitch. She pointed in the direction of the kitchen, "Her?"

"Yeah, her."

"Yeah, right," Kitty gave her a smirk. "That bitch be gorgeous. You're not hitting that, Lopez."

"Fuck you."

Kitty gave her a once over, "Maybe. Talk to me after a few more."

"Not a chance."

"You wish."

"Never."

"Oh, please," Kitty pointed at her with the mouth of her bottle. "You would kill for some of this."

"Like you wouldn't," Santana countered. She jutted out her breasts just to make the argument more valid.

"For charity, maybe," Kitty shrugged. "You're practically gameless."

Santana shifted her glasses higher, "May I remind you of Independence Day 2011, Kitty Wilde."

"That's a fabricated story, Lopez," the woman brushed it off.

"Is not and you know it," Santana told her. "You can pretend that you were drunk all you want. Tell everyone that you don't remember."

"I was knocked out cold by a Roman Candle!"

"You were not!"

"Quit making shit up!"

"I know," Santana said. "And you know."

"And God knows," Emma said as she passed by, Brittany just on her heels.

"Exactly," Santana punctuated her argument with by lifting her cup skyward. "Exactly."

She left Kitty standing there and fell in line behind Brittany. In fact, she almost walked right into the blonde when Brittany made an abrupt stop. She managed to hold up right in time, but her drink sloshed out of her cup and ran down her hand.

"Oh, sorry," Brittany said when she noticed the liquid dripping onto the floor.

"It's okay," Santana dismissed her apology. "I was too busy watching yo-...s-something else. My bad."

She turned to see Kitty mouthing, "Gameless."

# # # # #

"Your friends are fun," Brittany said as they rode back to her hotel. "They're kind of assholes, but they're fun."

"Those people are definitely assholes and they aren't my friends," Santana said in defense.

"They are," Brittany argued. "I can tell. You care about them."

"I care about them like any sane person would care about unfortunate souls."

"Oh, that's very noble," Brittany teased.

"Much like Jesus and the lepers," Santana said. After Brittany chuckled, Santana added, "When it was Emma's turn to choose a book, she picked the gospels."

"Ah."

Santana's car had been idling in the parking lot for a whole ten seconds. She had moved the gear shift and then said in a weak voice, "So...uh..." She was really hoping that Brittany would pick up the conversation there. She hadn't.

Instead, Brittany remained in the passenger seat, head tilted back on the headrest. The index finger on her right hand was nervously scratching at her jean-covered knee. Santana had been watching it move back and forth.

"That's the finger," she finally said.

"Huh?" Brittany asked cluelessly.

Santana pointed her own index finger. "Pointer. Right hand."

"Oh," Brittany looked down dumbly. "Okay?"

"Tina," Santana explained. "That's the finger that had to be reattached...I saw you looking all night, trying to figure it out."

Brittany smiled, "You noticed?"

"Of course."

"Well," she studied her own finger. "Thanks for telling me. Another of life's mysteries solved."

"I didn't want you to go through life wondering," Santana smiled.

"That would have been terrible."

"Yeah," Santana agreed. "Sure would."

Brittany waited a second before turning to look at her companion, "That's sort of the goal, though, right? To not go through life...wondering."

Santana thought about that. "I...guess."

The blonde unbuckled her seatbelt to allow for better range of movement. She twisted around in her seat a bit and rested one arm on the console. "I hate that."

"Wondering?" Santana laughed.

"Yeah," Brittany nodded. "Wondering...Should I have taken a chance on...that...or her?"

"I know the feeling," Santana whispered. She let her elbow drop next to Brittany's arm. Their skin barely made contact, but Santana felt it throughout her body.

Brittany noticed it, too. She pushed her arm just enough to garner more contact. The hand that had been scratching her knee came up to land on rest next to the other, fingers brushing Santana's forearm lightly. "Do you?"

Santana swallowed and drew in a breath. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "Yeah."

Brittany was leaning.

Slowly.

Leaning.

Toward her.

The realization seemed to take forever. It was like all of Santana's synapses had slowed. She saw the movement, she felt the magnetic pull to Brittany's lips. For a moment, she could actually see hands pushing their heads together and hear an annoying voice saying, "Now, kiss!"

She didn't move fast enough, though. For whatever reason, the moment passed.

"I need to..." Brittany's eyes darted to the hotel. She blushed in embarrassment as she pulled her hand through blonde locks.

"Already?" Santana didn't want her to go. The squeak of her voice gave that away.

Brittany smiled sweetly before pulling the handle, "Yep. Gotta get some sleep."

"I had a great time," Santana said quickly. "It was nice spending time with you. I hope we can do it again sometime."

The blonde probably didn't hear much of that as the passenger door was shut before Santana could even get through all the stupid cliche shit that just fell out of her mouth.

She rested her head on the steering wheel, lifted it up, and let it fall back. The resulting thud was just painful enough that she winced. "I am gameless."


	8. Autopilot

Santana had spent much of the morning daydreaming. Okay, it was like all the morning except the five minutes that she was talking with a customer. Turns out the customer was a straight man looking for the Chevron and four and half of those minutes was relaying turn by turn directions. Other than that, she was daydreaming. About Brittany. About Brittany's smile. About the almost kiss that she and Brittany had nearly shared in the parking lot of the Marriott. That rhymed. She knew it rhymed because she had written a little song in her head about the event. She called it "Marriott Parking Lot" and it went something like th-

The ring of the bell above the door captured her attention and she was automatically smiling. "What brings you by?"

"I heard about this really awesome book shop in Lima's gay district," Brittany countered. "Had to check it out."

"My advertising at the Piggly Wiggly is finally paying off!" Santana said with a mock fist pump.

Brittany took a long look around the little shop. "Novelties," she stated.

"Was it hard to find?"

The blonde shook her head, "Nope. Brisk little walk, though."

"You walked?" Santana immediately journeyed to the mini fridge that occupied her small stockroom. She grabbed a bottle of water out and headed back into the main floor of the shop. Santana offered Brittany the water, which the woman took gratefully.

"Thanks."

"I would have gone to pick you up if you wanted to come by."

"I thought I would surprise you," Brittany said with a shrug after she had taken a long drink.

"Nice surprise."

"This is great, Santana," Brittany told her as she screwed the cap on the bottle and looked for a place to set it down.

"I love it," Santana reached out for the bottle. She transferred it from Brittany to her counter beside the register. "Unfortunately, it's not what you would consider very profitable."

In the meantime, Brittany had grabbed a book off the shelf. She skimmed the back cover and turned a light shade of pink. "Hmm," she said as Santana watched her swallow and slide the book back.

"You're in the Erotica section," Santana pointed out.

"Obviously."

"Would you feel more comfortable in the vegan cookbook section?" Santana smirked and knocked on the wooden surface of the shelf she was standing in front of.

"It's..." Brittany took a few steps closer to Santana, "...here?"

"Yep," Santana slowly turned her head toward the books lined up. "Here."

The blonde rested her elbow on the shelf, but never looked away from Santana, "Yeah, I like it here."

"Cool."

"Soo..."

"Soo," Santana shifted a bit. "This is my book shop."

"It's awesome."

"I wish more people thought so," Santana rolled her eyes. "If it continues like this, I'll be doomed to managing the golf course forever. Although, that is exactly what my father wants."

"My parents wanted me to go into the family business, too," Brittany piped up.

"Oh?" Santana hadn't heard that yet. "And what's that?"

"Feline taxidermy with a concentration on predatory cats."

Santana laughed.

"Really," Brittany laughed along with her. "It really is."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. My dad is a taxidermist. He specializes in mountain lions."

"That's..." Santana was at a loss for how to finish the sentence.

"My dad wanted nothing more for me to follow in his footsteps," Brittany said seriously. "Imagine how heartbroken he was when I went into aviation."

"I can't," the brunette replied. "Really, I can't."

"My little brother, Sam, has picked up my slack, though," Brittany assured her. "Now it's Pierce _and Son_ Taxidermy."

"I'll have to remember that for next time I find myself needing a stuffed predatory cat."

"You should," Brittany said as her eyes wandered. "I usually keep a card in my purse. Remind me."

Santana felt the heat rise to her cheeks when she noticed Brittany's eyes land on her boobs. She had a pretty great rack, so it wasn't like she was insecure about it.

"Go Boilers!" Brittany said suddenly.

Santana looked down at her old t-shirt from college. "Purdue fan?"

"Uh, yeah," Brittany laughed. "I went there."

Santana's brow furrowed, "You went to Purdue? I went to Purdue."

"You did not."

"I did," Santana pointed at her shirt to somehow prove it. "I cheered there for four years."

"Cheered? _Cheered_, cheered?"

"I was a cheerleader," Santana told her. She demonstrated just in case Brittany still didn't get it. It was all a blur of arm movements and then, "Boiler up!"

"Okay, alright," Brittany said, trying to picture the moves in a Purdue cheerleading get-up.

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"I...no..." Brittany pondered it for a second more. "No, I don't guess so. You're...definitely...built for it."

"Thanks," Santana winked. "When were you there?"

"Graduated in '07."

"That's crazy. I graduated a year after. How have we not met before?" Santana asked in wonder.

"I have no idea," Brittany remarked. "What did you major in?"

"Lit."

"Ouch, maybe that's why," Brittany said with a chuckle. "I hated all that shit. I was in the aeronautics engineering program."

"That sounds...incredibly scientific."

"Yeah," she waited a beat. "And nerdy. I was a nerd."

"I'm sure you weren't," Santana argued.

"Oh, I was. Still am," the blonde said. "What about you? Lots of late-night reading? After hours library kind of stuff?"

"Uh...no." Santana lifted herself up on the book counter. "I did my fair share of that, but I did a lot of partying and got into some mischief."

"I can believe that," Brittany studied her.

"I liked the college girls." Santana crossed her legs and leaned back. "Especially the experimental ones. Those were my favorite."

"You probably launched a thousand cases of gay panic."

Santana's shoulders raised slightly and she tried to keep the corner of her mouth from quirking up.

"Yeah," Brittany pointed with the accusation. "You did."

"You're telling me you didn't?"

"Nope," Brittany denied. "I told you, I was a nerd. And not a hot cheerleader."

"A hot...engineer then?"

"Pilot." Brittany left it there.

"You're a pilot?" Santana squeaked out. The temperature in the room seems to just go up by about a thousand degrees.

"Yeah...I thought that was implied by the whole NTSB aviation disaster go-team thing."

"That's..." Santana pulled at the collar of her old t-shirt. "That's cool. Pilots are cool."

"Pilots do it higher," Brittany quipped. She watched Santana swallow thickly before adding, "Hey, I knew a cheerleader back in the day."

Santana smiled, "Oh yeah? Who was that?"

"Quinn...," Brittany said searching. "Quinn..."

"Fabray," Santana supplied with a smirk. "She was cheer captain before me. I finally beat her out senior year." The brunette couldn't keep the smile off her lips at the memory.

"Quinn Fabray," Brittany nodded. "Yeah. She dated one of the guys in the program for a while. She seemed nice."

"Total bitch," Santana informed her.

"Really?"

"Bitch from hell. Crazy as fuck."

"Wow," Brittany mused. "I would have never thought."

"She once put glitter in my pom poms after the coup," Santana said. "It totally backfired. That was the year that Twilight came out."

"Worked in your favor."

"Ladies love glitter," Santana shrugged.

Brittany laughed at Santana's serious expression. "Yeah," she nodded. "I hear that's true. I know I do."

"Do you?" Santana asked. "Good to know. I wouldn't have thought you were into glitter."

"Sure," Brittany said. "I'm really into glitter. I like glitter a lot."

Santana knew they had detoured into another conversation entirely, but she didn't quite know how to turn the corner. "Me, too. Me, too."

A few seconds clicked by. Santana let her feet create a cadence against the front of the book counter. She fumbled with a book that was lying on the counter and then set it back down.

Brittany rubbed her hands together nervously before clearing her throat. "Hey, about last night, I...I'm sorry for...I don't know," Brittany ducked a little, trying to hide. "I, uh-"

"Took off," Santana finished.

"Yeah, because-"

"You were tired." Santana rapped her fingers loudly. "No big deal."

Brittany looked into Santana's eyes. She was giving her an out.

Brittany wasn't sure she wanted an out, though.

"I got a little spooked, I think," Brittany finally said.

"Oh..."

"I..." Brittany laughed at her own anxiety. "I'd like to spend more time with you."

Santana jumped off the counter onto her feet. She leaned back, trying to replicate someone who was actually cool in this kind of situation. "Sure."

"Yeah?" Brittany nodded. "Maybe we could hang out...um, again."

"I like hanging out...with you," Santana said. "You want to, maybe, have a meal? Do an activity?"

"Like a date?" Brittany asked hopefully.

"A date would be cool," Santana said masking the pure elation that was zipping through her body. "Let's do that."

"Okay, you're on. A date," Brittany walked backward toward the door. "I've got to go back to work."

"Well, let me take you."

"No, no," Brittany held up her hand. "No, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" Santana gestured around the shop. "It's not like I'm too busy."

"Yeah," Brittany was still walking backward and now at a slight diagonal. She bounced right off the shelves with an, "Ow!"

"Watch out," Santana grinned. "That erotica section gets you every time."

"Always," Brittany confessed. She hooked her thumb back over her shoulder, "So I'm going. But, I'll see you?"

"Tonight?"

"Absolutely."

"Call me."

"I will."


	9. Descent

There was a certain series of events to proceed any date night of one Santana Lopez. For this particular date, the checklist was of the utmost importance. Shower: check. Thorough wash down: check. Smoothness: check. Face: check.

She slid on her lucky thongs and the threw on the newest bra in her drawer. Santana chose the tightest dress she had. The one that made her boobs look like they about to jump out and greet whoever they were pointed at. When she made the assessment in the mirror, she couldn't have been happier with the results.

She looked good. Maybe a little more than casually good. She and Brittany had decided on a casual evening. She may not be casual enough for a date-like, getting-to-know-you evening.

Why did she keeping thinking 'casual?'

"I don't know," came a deep voice.

"Holy shit!" Santana nearly jumped out of her skin. "Why the hell don't you knock?"

"Knock?" Finn asked dumbly. "When have I ever knocked? It was unlocked. I was thirsty."

"Well, get a beverage and leave."

"Leave? I just got here." Finn made himself comfortable on Santana's bed. On her newly laundered sheets.

"Finn!"

"What?" Finn looked her over. "Oh," he sneered. "Holly?"

"No," Santana said quickly. "Not Holly."

"Really?" Finn didn't seem convinced at all. "You don't have to lie, Lopez. I'm not judging you... too hard."

"It's not Holly." Santana got close enough to thump him in the head. "Off my bed. That's a no-man zone."

"Fine!" Finn hopped up. "You're worked up."

"Am not."

"If not for Holly, then who?" Finn thought about it for a second. "Wait! Wait, really? The hot blonde plane crash investigator?"

Santana was noncommittal in her response. "Could be."

Finn grabbed a nearby pillow and threw it at her. "I can't believe it."

"Okay," Santana scoffed. "It's not that hard to believe that I would be going out with Brittany."

"You going out with her, no," Finn said. "Her going out with you, maybe."

"C'mon!" She threw the pillow back at her best friend.

"I'm kidding!" He threw up his hands in defense. "I'm joking. Of course, she'd want to go out with you, Santana. You're awesome."

"That's better."

"She seemed really nice," Finn declared. "Not that you two stuck around very long after the outing."

"How's he doing with that?" Santana asked about Kurt.

"He's fine," Finn said. "He's loving it. He was able to tell them all about Arthur and their life. They are excited about finally meeting him and visiting his big, gay loft in the city."

"I knew it would all be fine."

"Of course," Finn nodded. "Dad's blood pressure went down because there's no more secrecy. Mom is thrilled that Kurt is happy. Brittany is practically a hero at the house."

"Speaking of..." Santana checked the nearest clock. "She's late."

"Uh oh."

"Not uh oh."

"She'll be here," Finn said without much thought. "I'm thirsty.

# # # # #

An hour later with no phone call or text and the 'not uh oh' had definitely gone to 'uh oh.'

Slowly, Date Night Santana transformed into Stood Up Santana. Her hair went up in a ponytail. She exchanged her dress for a holy pair of jeans and an old threadbare tee. More importantly, she ripped open her emergency stash of gummy bears because Finn had yet to come back with the crapload of terribly sugary junk food that she had demanded.

In fact, she was about fifteen gummy bears in when she heard the knock.

She was mildly annoyed that Finn had finally decided to learn how to knock at a time when she really didn't want to get up and answer the door.

"Ha ha, Finneus," she yelled. "I get it. You're knocking. That's great, doof-"

It was Brittany.

Deliciously cute Brittany.

Sheepishly, obviously embarrassed Brittany.

"I'm so so so sorry," Brittany started. "Sooo sorry."

"Uh..." Santana tried to hide her package of gummy bears by stuffing them into her pocket. She failed spectacularly, so she just extended them toward the woman. "Gummy?"

Brittany took them. "Sure."

"Hi."

"I got caught up with a report and my phone died," Brittany explained. She paused for a second while she popped a gummy bear in her mouth. "Then, I realized I don't know where you live. So I went to Kurt's and he wasn't around and neither was Finn. But his parents were. And they thanked me a lot for what I'm still not sure, but finally they gave me your address...you actually live on a golf course. I thought you were kidding."

"No," Santana said. "Why would I joke about that?"

"I don't know," Brittany shrugged. She handed the gummy bears back, "Thanks."

"Gummies!" Santana gave her the lamest thumbs up anybody has ever given anybody in the history of the world. "Sorry," she said staring at her upturned thumb.

"Can we still go out?" Brittany asked disregarding the apology.

"Well, our reservation is..."

"You had a reservation?" Brittany sighed. "I suck."

"No, no," Santana started. "Well, yeah. I did. But, it was at Breadstix. So...I mean, it's like the only place in town you can have a reservation. And, it's not exactly required, so it's fine."

"So we can go?"

"Well," Santana checked the time. "They close in like half an hour."

"Small town."

"Very small town," Santana agreed.

"Well..."

"We can still hang out, though," Santana said. "We can hang out here. Is that okay?"

"Of course."

Santana finally moved out of the doorway enough for Brittany to enter the residence. They both stood there for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry," Brittany said again.

"It's okay," Santana said. She discreetly chewed on a gummy bear. "I'm glad you came by."

"I wanted to see you."

"I'm...glad." Santana blew out a long breath.

"Yeah."

"Okay," Santana eventually broke the silence. "I don't know why I'm so awkward around you. I'm usually not this weird."

"Oh good!"

"You think I'm weird?"

"No!" Brittany said. She smiled and shook her head. "I'm usually not this awkward either...I like you, I guess. I mean, I know. I know I like you."

"I have an idea," Santana said. "We were going to go out...so we'll improvise."

"Okay..."

Santana did a quick circle around her apartment. She threw some items in a tote bag and grabbed a blanket off her couch. She slipped on a comfy pair of shoes and made sure she had her cell phone. While in hand, she quickly banged out a message to Finn to stay away.

Brittany watched her scurry about not daring to ask.

"Let's go," Santana called.

She caught Brittany's hand and pulled the woman along with her.

"Where are you taking me?" Brittany asked as they traversed the Lima Links acreage.

"The thirteenth hole."

"Sounds sexual," Brittany blurted out.

Santana coughed a bit and tripped on absolutely nothing. "Not really, but it is next to a sand trap."

On the way, a young woman whizzed by in a bright pink golf cart. "Playing through!" the girl screamed.

Santana stared at her. "I know her from somewhere."

Brittany watched her as well. "Yeah, seems like I've seen her around."

After the hike, they found themselves lying on a blanket one the green of the aforementioned thirteenth hole.

"This is nice," Brittany said as the cool air passed over them.

"It's my favorite place," Santana said. "I don't know why."

"It's quiet."

They continued in silence for a while enjoying the cooler temperature of the night. The stars started to poke out through the blackened sky and Santana pulled out her cell phone. She turned on the flashlight application and looked through her bag.

"I brought the gummies," Santana set the snacks on the blanket. She fished around for the other things she blindly threw in. "And saltines...water...almonds...and a can of chicken noodle soup."

"Almonds, please," Brittany requested.

After handing over the nuts, Santana's curiosity got the best of her. "Has the landing gear ever just fell off a plane before?"

"Yeah, actually. But, most of the time if there's a landing gear malfunction then it's during flight and leads to belly landings. Which is not always catastrophic, but they tend to be hull-losses after that much damage to an undercarriage."

Santana stared at the woman. She had long since stopped paying attention to her words and had settled on just watching her lips move. Those lips were pretty damn inviting.

Brittany continued nevertheless, "Your crash was actually caused by a mechanical failure of the nose gear, though. It actually whittles down to improper maintenance done by airline personnel. So, really, it's a mechanical failure due to human error. This is why aircraft have specific maintenance schedules and procedures, people."

"That's interesting," Santana said with absolutely no idea what she was actually saying.

"Really?" Brittany was surprised that Santana took any kind of interest at all. "Well, if you think that's interesting, let me break down my report. I'll start from the beginning and walk you through it. Basically the threads were stripped on a bolt which caused-"

"You know what," Santana stopped her when she realized this could take all night. Not that she didn't want to admire the moving lips, but she kind of wished they would be moving on hers. "I don't really need to know. I mean, it couldn't be all the serious, right? The oxygen masks didn't even come down."

"It's very serious," Brittany said with no ounce of insincerity. "And the oxygen masks didn't deploy because there was no depressurization of the cabin."

"I didn't mean what you do isn't serious," Santana panicked slightly. "It's really important. Of course, it is. I'm so sorry I said that."

"I know," Brittany smiled. "I know what you meant." She reached across the space separating them and rested her hand on Santana's arm. "It was a minor crash for all intents and purposes."

"Exactly," Santana said breathily. It had become harder to catch her breath when Brittany touched her. She tried to slow it down because she didn't want to seem like a total weirdo. The problem was her heart was beating so hard she was almost certain that Brittany could feel her pulse racing.

"It's my job to make sure it doesn't happen again," Brittany said. "Especially to you. The next one might not be so minor."

"I'd gladly go through another one if they sent you again," Santana told her. It was soft and vulnerable. So soft and vulnerable that she immediately straightened and cleared her throat. "A minor one, I mean. You know, this wasn't so bad. And I got to meet you. So...not terrible."

Brittany took a drink out of their shared water bottle.

"Sorry I only got one," Santana apologized.

"It's fine."

Brittany took inventory of their provisions again. She picked up the soup. "I guess without a can opener, this was intended as a weapon."

"So maybe the whole spontaneous picnic thing wasn't as romantic as I had hoped."

Brittany pushed off her right elbow and suddenly was facing Santana. "I think it was a great idea."

"You do?"

"Uh huh."

Santana felt Brittany's hand land on her hip. Her fingertips had snuck just under Santana's t-shirt.

"Getting better by the second." Santana's teeth scraped over her bottom lip and her tongue slid between them in anticipation.

"Thanks for bringing me to your favorite spot."

Santana was having a hard time catching her breath enough to respond. "S-sure."

Brittany's fingers curled around her hip and pulled Santana closer. "I think it might be one of my favorite spots, too, now."

"Th-that's g-good to hear."

"Good," Brittany said before lightly kissing the corner of Santana's mouth.

The first kiss was over almost before it began. Santana didn't even have time to really react. She was still just lying there on the blanket in a haze, but finally reached out and slid her hand over Brittany's thigh.

"It's good."

Brittany's hand found Santana's face as she stroked her jawline with her fingertips. She loomed over Santana, drifting closer and closer. Right before she connected, Brittany reached up and tilted Santana's glasses onto her head.

"For my own protection," she said.

It was really only a brush of lips. Brittany barely deepened the kiss, but it was still one of the most sensual of Santana's life. It must have been the way their lips popped as they pulled away. It very well could have been how Brittany's hands lingered on her face and traveled down her neck. Maybe it was the darkness prohibiting her sight and making her feel everything times ten.

"You're really beautiful," Brittany whispered.

"You, too," Santana answered quickly.

"You can't see me," Brittany chuckled. She replaced Santana's glasses slowly. "There you go."

"Thanks." Santana repositioned them. She was a little disappointed that they were back in place.

When Brittany shifted away, Santana breathed out slowly.

"I hope that was okay."

"Yeah." Santana realized immediately that her voice sounded a little like a chipmunk. "Yeah," she said again, deeper. She overcompensated a lot and sounded more like a man that time.

"Good."

Santana agreed, "Great even."

Brittany laughed out loud, "A glowing review."

"Five stars."

"Thanks, you're great yourself," Brittany said as she sat up. Much to Santana's dismay, she started to gather their things. "I hate to cut our night short, but...I have a report to finish tomorrow. My work in Lima is almost done."

"Done?" Why Santana was shocked to hear this, she didn't know. Of course, it was. Brittany was going to leave soon. She knew that from the beginning.

"Yep," Brittany replied. "Just a couple more days."

Santana stood and started folding the blanket, "Then back home?"

"Back to Chicago," Brittany said as she hooked the straps of Santana's backpack over her shoulders. "Back to life..."

"Back to reality."


	10. Landing

"...And then she kissed me," Santana said. She was lying on her bed, with her head hanging off the end. "It was..."

"The single greatest moment of your life?" Finn asked. He was busy throwing crunch berries at Santana's face.

"Don't be a jerk."

"I was being serious," Finn said. "It was, wasn't it?"

"It was definitely nice," she said.

"I'm glad you had a nice time." Finn threw the next crunch berry a little harder. "Because I was out seventy bucks for junk food that you just had to have."

"And I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

"It's fine," Finn said. "Because guess who I ran into at the store?"

"Steve Buscemi?

"No."

"The hot weather chick from the morning news?"

"No," Finn said. "Although, that would have been cool, too."

"I give up," Santana said while rolling over. She rested her chin on her folded arms, "Who?"

"Tina."

"Cohen-Chang?" Santana asked. "The firelady that stokes the embers of your heart?"

"Shut up!"

"You lo-ove her," she teased.

"Lopez, c'mon on-"

A knock on the door made them pause.

Finn looked around. "We're both here."

"Other people exist, Finneus," Santana said. She scooted off the bed and headed that way.

Finn popped up, too. He ran past Santana and opened the door first.

"Who's there?" He shouted even though he was already looking at Brittany.

"Oh, hey," Brittany offered a small wave. "I was looking for Santana."

"You came to the right place, then," Finn said. He turned around and then quickly deposited Santana in front of her.

"Excuse him," Santana said.

"He's fine," Brittany chuckled.

"I am," Finn interjected as he scooted past them. He winked at Santana, "Bye Lopez."

"Later, doofus."

"Brittany, good to see you again," Finn called over his shoulder.

"Bye Finn," Brittany watched him head off towards his green Honda. She turned to Santana, "I was hoping I'd catch you."

"You did," Santana grinned at the cuteness that this woman embodied. "Already back for more?"

"More what?" Brittany asked seriously.

"Uh," Santana looked around. "I don't know."

"Of you?"

"Sure."

"Then yes," Brittany said. "I was hoping so anyway."

"You can have more of me," Santana said without so much as flinching. She was proud of that.

Brittany cleared her throat. She scanned over Santana's body. She had answered the door in a tank top and a pair of rolled down, cut off sweats. More Santana, indeed.

Santana noticed her perusal. "You want to come in?"

"Yep!"

Santana led Brittany into her apartment. She plopped into the bean bag chair leaving Brittany the other seat.

"I was hoping to catch you so I could ask you out again," Brittany said. "Maybe try the meal and activity thing."

"I'd love to," Santana nodded so hard she almost gave herself a headache. "Tonight?"

"Kind of has to be. It's my last night here," Brittany imparted. "I fly out tomorrow morning."

"Oh," Santana's stomach dropped. She shifted in the bean bag, suddenly uncomfortable, "Already?"

"My report is finished," Brittany said. "The investigation was pretty light for this one. Some maintenance issues to clear up, definitely, but nothing crazy in-depth."

"Really?" Santana was having trouble finding her voice. "Even when the landing gear falls off? That doesn't warrant a month long inquiry?"

"You would think," Brittany smiled but then shook her head. "No, gotta go back home. As much as I'd like to continue this...what did you say? Inquiry?"

Santana was defeated by this news. She was already preparing herself for the inevitable. "Well, I hope you enjoyed your time here."

"I enjoyed my time with you," Brittany said with a smile.

"I did, too." Her voice was already infused with nostalgia. "We should definitely go out. It will probably be our last opportunity."

"Nah," Brittany waved it off. "Definitely not last."

"Once you leave, though..."

"What do you mean?" Brittany was confused. "You're acting like we'll never see each other again."

"There's no guarantee that we will," Santana said coldly. "That's just the way it is."

"Uh...no," Brittany shook her head. "We can make plans to visit each other."

"Make plans?" Santana laughed humorlessly. "We barely know each other. We met a few days ago."

"So."

"So..." Santana looked at her. "It's not like we can have a relationship."

"Why can't we?"

"Long distance relationships don't work."

"They can."

"No," Santana said with force. "They don't."

"Of course, they do," Brittany said. "What about the book for book club."

"You didn't even read it."

"But Kitty said it had a happy ending."

"Kitty didn't read it either!" Santana argued. "This is real life, Brittany."

"Okay, okay," Brittany said. "I'm sorry...I just...I thought we..."

"We do...we did," Santana said following her thoughts. "But...I'm stuck in Lima and you're about to jet back off to Chicago. Besides, you don't meet someone and automatically fall in love with them. That's ridiculous. You may meet and think they're cute, or they're funny, or you wouldn't mind sharing a pineapple on a hot day. But you don't meet and know that you want to spend the rest of your next fifty years holding their hand or folding their underwear in an instant."

Brittany stared at her, "What?"

"Pineapples are delicious summer treats," Santana said.

Brittany certainly hadn't missed any of what she had said. It seemed like more insight than Santana had intended.

"You just said-"

"That things like that don't happen," Santana said before Brittany could repeat any of that outburst.

Brittany got the message, but she couldn't let one of those things go. "You fold your underwear? Why?"

"The underwear square," Santana stated.

"What the hell happened to you?" Brittany asked.

"Nothing!" Santana said. "I just like my undies to be neat."

"Even if your life is a mess?"

"I like my life," Santana said defensively. "If it's messy, it's because I like it messy."

"Okay," Brittany said sadly. "I didn't mean to to say that."

"My life _is_ messy," Santana admitted. "All the more reason that it would never work."

"Yeah...well, we could be friends then," Brittany said hopefully. "I just met you. I don't want to lose you already."

The thought of being friends with this woman was nearly mortifying. Friends don't touch or kiss. Friends have to be happy for other friends when they find the love of their life. Then, friends have to suffer through all the details of their relationship. Friends have to trudge through double dates while being subject to kissy faces of the perfect couple. Friends have to be the maid of honor and have a front row seat for the most beautiful lesbian wedding to ever hit the Midwest.

"Pfft, friends," Santana grumbled. "I have friends...well, I have Finn. And Kurt. Cedes. And...my instincts say to add my roller derby book club, but my tolerance levels are low with most of those people."

"And me!" Brittany tried to make her understand.

"You won't be here."

"Well, then," Brittany stood. "I guess there's no reason to continue."

"Probably not," Santana breathed. She watched as Brittany left her tiny apartment. "No reason at all."

Brittany had only been gone for five minutes when she searched out her gummy bears.


	11. Baggage Claim

"Looking handsome," Santana told Kurt as she held up the playbill of Empire Records the Musical.

"Isn't he though?" Arthur remarked as he dusted the imaginary dirt off Kurt's shoulders. "That's my man!"

"He sure is," Santana said.

"You two!" Carole grinned at her son and his boyfriend. She pinched Artie's cheek and kissed Kurt's. "Such a handsome pair."

"Alright, Carole," Burt pulled his wife away. "Don't smother the boys."

"Okay all," Kurt clapped to get everyone's attention. "I have to go and get mentally and physically prepared to deliver my awe-inspiring performance."

"Go!" Santana called. "I expect to be wowed."

"I'll wow you at the theatre," he said grandly. He hooked his arm through Artie's and pointed to his brother, who was on the phone. "Make sure he gets there."

Santana's saluted him. "Scout's honor."

"We're going to go grab a quick bite," Burt announced shortly thereafter.

"Everything at the venue is just so pricy," Carole said with a frown.

"You want to go with us?" Burt asked.

"Nah," she waved him off. "I'll stick with the big guy."

"Make sure he gets there," Carole repeated Kurt's demand.

"I will deliver."

"He can't miss his brother's big night," Burt said before they exited.

It was a big night. Opening night kind of big.

Santana and Finn wouldn't have missed it for the world. Well, actually, Finn had to be dragged to Chicago to see his brother. But, it really had nothing to do with not wanting to see Kurt. It had everything to do with not wanting to miss Tina.

She settled in one of Kurt and Artie's chairs and watched Finn on the phone. He was smiling that goofy smile of his. It was nearly always plastered on his face these days. He had finally gained some balls and asked Tina out on a date a couple months ago. The two had been hanging out every spare second since then. At least, up until this weekend with Kurt. Finn felt the loss and previously been texting like a man in love.

He had finally gotten the chance to talk to Tina and had taken it, despite the goings-on around him.

She noticed him looking around all of a sudden. He checked his watch and held up his free hand in question.

"What?" she asked.

"Where'd everyone go?" he asked while still holding the phone to his ear.

"Tulsa."

"Oh, okay," Finn said. He then continued his conversation.

Santana was jealous. Kurt was in love. Finn was in love. Burt and Carole were in love. And what did she have?

A bag of gummy bears she had brought from home.

She was munching on said gummies and reading through a copy of Cat Fancy when Finn kicked her shoe.

"I'm going down to catch a cab," Finn said.

"Oh, you need to have a private convo with your girlfriend?" Santana asked.

"No!"

"I'll give you ten minutes," Santana said. "Then I'll be down. You better get all your lovey-dovey, ooey-gooey bullshit in before I arrive."

Exactly ten minutes later, Santana put on her coat to leave. She stuffed her gummy bears into her pocket and locked Kurt and Arthur's apartment door and turned the corner to see the elevator doors slowly sliding shut.

"Hey, hold the elevator," she told the girl clearly looking straight at her.

"Can't," she said with a smile. "Sorry."

"Well, that was rude," Santana yelled at her as the doors closed. "What a bitch."

Thirty seconds later the other in the bank of elevators came to a stop on her floor. As soon as the door opened, she could smell her. It was that same mix of light perfume and honey vanilla. She knew exactly who it was, but she had to look. And she did. Albeit, briefly. Just a flash of blue eyes was enough before she looked back down.

Whether she really thought she could get away with acting like she didn't know Brittany, or was just so overwhelmed with wanting to escape, she didn't know. She just stood there, in front of the open doors.

She stood there so long that the doors were going to close before Brittany jumped into action and pushed the button.

"Are you getting on?"

"Uh," Santana swallowed the lump in her throat. "Do you mind?"

"The elevators are for everyone, Santana," Brittany said without any trace of emotion.

"Yeah." Santana slid in on the far side. She watched as Brittany's finger released the button.

"One?"

"Yes, please," Santana said quietly. "Thanks."

"No problem." Brittany took a few steps back to lean against the far wall of the elevator. She made a point to watch nothing but the numbers as they lit up.

That was a pretty telling clue, but Santana couldn't bear the thought of not saying something, "How've you been?"

"Okay," Brittany answered tersely.

"Ah."

"Yep."

"How's work?"

"Fine."

Santana shifted uncomfortably. Brittany wasn't going to make this easy. "Good," she said after clearing her throat. "I read about that plane in Minnesota with the engine failure."

Brittany glanced down for a moment, but only a moment. She was staring at the numbers again when she said, "Double engine failure."

"Yeah," Santana nodded. She knew that. She had read at least five articles about the incident searching for Brittany's name. An interview. A mention.

Brittany sighed, "How's the shop?"

"Closed."

"Oh." Brittany looked at her sincerely apologetic. "I didn't know. Sorry."

"Apparently Lima's fifteen lesbians can't really sustain a lesbian bookstore," Santana told her. "But, it's all good. I've turned my attention to getting Lima Links on the LPGA."

Brittany laughed, but obviously didn't mean to. The sound did something to Santana, though. It made all the warmth in the universe rush through her body. The defeated look on Brittany's face on that last night in Lima was replaced with the one of her laughing in this elevator. It was a welcome exchange.

"You look great."

Brittany eyed Santana for a moment, "You, too."

Santana shuffled. She found herself both looking forward to and dreading the moment when the elevator dinged. "Thank you."

"Are you in town for Kurt's show?" Brittany asked.

"Yes," Santana answered. "It's his opening night."

"I know," Brittany nodded. She produced a ticket and flashed it at Santana.

"You're going?"

"Of course," Brittany said like it was the obvious thing in the world. "He invited me."

"Did he tell you that I would be there?"

The elevator doors slid open into the lobby and Brittany quickly stepped out of the car.

"Brittany?" Santana called after her. "Hey, Brittany."

Brittany kept walking. She walked all the way out of the building and onto the sidewalk. She walked until she ran right into Finn who had been animatedly talking on the phone.

"Hi!" he said recognizing her.

"Hi Finn," Brittany acknowledged him.

He saw Santana then, "Look Lopez, it's Brittany."

"Yeah..."

Finn looked between the two women. After a second, he whispered into the phone, "I think I'm the pointy end of a lesbian triangle."

Brittany frustratedly ran her fingers through her hair.

"Santana and Brittany," Finn said relaying the information to Tina. "It's intense."

"Hey," Santana reached her. "Brittany..."

Brittany didn't want to meet her eyes. She was trying everything but to look at Santana.

"I was wrong," Santana admitted. That won her eye contact. "That day. I was wrong. So, so wrong."

"You were."

"Santana's apologizing for being a giant douche nozzle," Finn said in his best imitation of a golf announcer.

Santana glared at him briefly before returning to Brittany, "And scared. And stupid. And I'm sorry, but mostly I was wrong."

"You didn't even give us a chance."

"Because nothing ever works!" Santana nearly screamed. "Nothing ever works out for me. And then you were in my life...and you were just the best. I just kept thinking, it won't work. Don't even try."

"Santana," Brittany frowned. "Why would you think that?"

Finn slid in behind his friend and rested his hand on her shoulder in silent support. He awkwardly held his cell phone in the air for Tina to overhear.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "My bad luck, I guess.

"Well," Brittany sighed. "Things are changing, Santana. You're going to get lucky tonight."

"What?" Santana's head snapped up.

"Not like that," Brittany said. Then after a moment, "Well, maybe. If you play your cards right."

Finn couldn't help but smile as he gave his friend a little push closer to Brittany.

"What if-"

"No," Brittany cut her off. "No more negativity."

"But-"

"None!" Brittany pulled Santana in. "I knew."

"You knew?"

"I knew you'd be here," Brittany said. "Of course, I knew. I've been waiting..."

"No more waiting," Santana said. She hugged Brittany tightly, "I'm here."

"Aww," Finn said into his phone. "They're hugging. On the street. A crowd is gathering. They're kissing. Oh...uh...Some guy is taking pictures. Shit, Tina, I gotta break this up before they upstage Kurt's opening night."


	12. Epilogue

100%, bitches!

It's probably worth noting that those two were actually supposed to meet on an elevator in Chicago. Whoops! I didn't know until Sue sat me down for my performance review. All those times she was telling me to be patient was because of this! And I thought it had to do with my leveling up in Candy Crush.

I'm pretty sure that now I'm going to get my wings. Or possibly something even better, like a new Golden Kingdom handbag. Ohh, I've also got my eye on these amazing Hallelujah Heels.

Don't tell anybody that, or I'll get another "material possessions" lecture. Whatevs.

So, I guess you're probably more interested in the two lovebirds than me. Although, I don't know why or how that's possible.

I would love to tell you all about their lives and whatnot. After I get people together, though, I get totally bored with them. Once I turn their files into Schue, I'm done. Schue is the guy responsible for keeping soulmates together. Dicey work, I say. He's so boring that it kinda suits him. And considering the divorce rate, he's not exactly the epitome of job security.

I wouldn't worry, though. They've been Sugar'd. Might as well be destiny or whatever the new age hippies call it these days.

Peace out.


End file.
